


Miniatures (Tumblr Drabbles and Ficlets)

by darklittlestories



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Baking, Comfort Food, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, Drawing, Dressing Someone, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Ghosts, Gift Giving, Haunting, Hint of myth!Loki, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Modeling, Psychotropic Drugs, Thor is Too Old for This Shit, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, author needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklittlestories/pseuds/darklittlestories
Summary: A collection of drabbles prompted over a weekend on Tumblr based on an Ask Meme for prompts.





	1. Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr at darklittlestories.tumblr.com

_For the prompt: "Zip Me: one character dressing another, or the other way around." My first perfect 100 words drabble.  
_

* * *

“I’ve looked forward,” he echoed, “To this day as long as you have.” Tears brightened his eyes.  
  
The prince shook his head fondly. “I wish,” he began, and his voice broke.   
  
“We _both_ wish she were here.”   
  
“Aye. You’ve missed a strap. This one crosses just under here.”  
  
Thor slapped his hand away, chuckling through tears. “Why must you wear such complicated pieces?”   
  
“Perhaps I like you on your knees?”   
  
Mischievous eyes danced above as Thor fastened the last buckle.   
  
He reused more banter as he draped an emerald cloak over Loki’s shoulders. “Are you nervous?”   
  
“Norns yes,” Loki breathed.


	2. Blush

_For the prompt: "Paint Me: about one character drawing a picture of another."  Another 100 words drabble.  
_

* * *

 

“Relax,” Loki said. “Lie back. Good .” He’d added another pillow beneath Thor’s shoulders.   
  
Thor blushed deeply and prettily at his proximity. Loki wished he had brought paint. But they’d agreed one hour each session.   
  
Loki set to work, encouraging Thor to talk as his pencils skimmed the paper, modeling shapes: Pectoral, clavicle, triceps, pelvic crest. He caught Thor staring at his hand as he drew, and a fine tremor went through him. When the broad strokes of anatomy were complete, Loki inhaled slowly and sketched the curves of that generous mouth, wishing again for colors to capture their ruddy sweetness.


	3. Under Starlight

_Fror the prompt "Haunt Me: one character watching over another."  A longer ficlet._

* * *

The war is over, the Stones hidden with those fragile, beautiful creatures of Midgard.

  
Thor had rested for weeks after returning to Asgard and securing Loki’s pardon. He’s curious why Loki has sent for him this eve. They’ve spoken, though much remains unsaid and the wounds between them still bleed.    
  
The air is cool as dusk descends on the palace gardens. Loki waits outside a hedge maze Thor hasn’t entered since their youth.    
  
“Quickly,” Loki whispers, surprising Thor by taking his hand.   
  
Lacing their fingers, he pulls Thor along with sure, quiet steps. It’s completely new to Thor. He's sure the pathway is different. It seems more winding, circuitous. Something tickles at his skin as they walk, a feeling not unlike traveling the Bifröst, but far gentler.   
  
Fragrant roses ring the center clearing, and night phlox creep upward along the living walls, glowing in the early starlight.    
  
“Sit.”    
  
Loki pulls Thor down with him onto a carpet of lush grass.   
  
Thor stares curiously as Loki takes both hands in his own and breathes slowly and regularly. After some time, Thor's breathing comes to match Loki's, and the sounds of the night insects quiet. When Loki closes his eyes, Thor imitates without question.   
  
Their shared breaths are the only sound in the quiet, strange space.   
  
Then as true darkness falls, the lack of light registering through Thor's eyelids, he hears a voice that pulls twin sobs from the brothers’ throats.   
  
“My darlings,” Frigga whispers. Her touch is like a breeze caressing his face.    
  
When he looks up the first thing he sees is a full, sweet smile on Loki's face, the crinkled skin by his eyes holding fat tears.

 


	4. Devastating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [this](https://darklittlestories.tumblr.com/post/160626981729/devastated-thorki-something-that-devastates) emotional prompt: "DEVASTATED!! Thorki. something that DEVASTATES LOKI. Crush my soul, Thor, do something awful (But don't die, omg I would cry)"
> 
> {I’m sorry I am so so sorry I am VERY very sorry y u do this, Story, why????}

Thor grabbed him by the shoulders and shook Loki, Odin’s false form washing away.

“Thor, I can—”

“What, LIE?” Thor roared, and spittle flew into Loki’s face.

“No, I…” Loki trailed off.

“You have but one thing to say to me.” In a cold voice he’d never used, Thor continued, “Where is my father?”

“Brother, listen?”

Thor spat, “You are no brother of mine, Son of Laufey.”

Loki reeled as if struck.

“You cannot bear the truth you yourself once claimed?”

Loki felt faint.

“It was your wish that I believed you dead. Very well. You are dead to me.”


	5. Delirious

Loki sniggered softly, waiting.

Shortly, Thor came banging and shouting.

“LOOOOKIIII! Dragons in the palace!” A gasp. “Your door! The woodgrain is swimming.”

Loki covered his mouth, quaking with laughter.

“It’s pretty… and—colors. Tastes like lemon. LOKI! Your door’s purple and lemon tasty?”

Interesting: It did work on Asgardians.

“Enter.”

“I came for… ooh, your eyes are rainbows.”

“You came for aid?”

“I did?”

“Dragons?”

“Aye. They were tiny. But they followed right through the walls. Or were in the walls…”

Loki lost his composure, cackling.

Thor asked absently, “Spell?”

“No. The Midgardians just discovered it.”

“What?”

“Lysergic acid diethylamide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love drunk Loki so much I thought that would be expected but I *also* love writing altered consciousness. So I decided Thor could be an Asgardian Acid Guinea Pig. You’re welcome. For Raven's ask:) <333


	6. Frosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For prompt: "Comforting Thorki, Thor bakes Loki a cake."

Loki laughed at the powder in Thor’s beard.

“You’re ruining your own surprise, love.”

Thor wiped his face, grinning. “What? No. I’m plastering the walls. Dust everywhere. Stay out!”

Loki flipped a page idly and called, “There’s butter in your hair, too.”

He heard a fond grumbling from the kitchen, then the electric beaters whirring happily.

Smiling, he lost himself in the book, then an hour later, startled as Thor laughed behind him.

It was over-the-top, as usual. Three tiers, like a miniature wedding cake. But brilliant green.

“Happy… what is it, Saturday?”

“I adore you, you ridiculous, gorgeous man.”


	7. Offering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offering  
> Ficlet for @lunariagold (beta_cygni), who missed the Magical Drabbles Weekend of Amazingness.
> 
> For the prompt: Leave "Offer Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character giving another a gift.

 

Loki had been scowling for months.

When Thor landed on his balcony that evening, he huffed and slid down in his chair, churlish and glaring.  
  
“Brother, I have something for you.”  
  
All Loki saw, glancing up from beneath a curtain of hair, was that damnable hammer as Thor affixed it to his belt. He loathed it all: The uru weapon thrumming with seidr. (And that burned. Loki was the sorcerous one. It should have been his.) The golden, perfect, chosen son. The ridiculous belt on Thor’s waist, which nipped in just narrow enough to force admiration of the broad chest and sculpted arms.  
  
Loki easily maintained the glowering resentment that had simmered since Mjolnir had sung out for Thor’s hands, then worse, gave him flight, leaving Loki tethered to the ground. Thor’d even had the audacity to offer to carry Loki aloft, like a child.  
  
It was unbearable.  
  
“What?” he asked Thor, bitterly, taking in the wind-tangled strands of hair and the sun-glow on his face.  
  
Thor produced a small sack, and Loki frowned at it.  
  
“Please, Brother? Just look at them?”  
  
The worst of it all was Thor’s damned likability. Loki imagined that winning the warhammer and becoming more involved with the renowned warriors of Asgard would soon teach him arrogance but he couldn’t yet fault Thor.

At all.

The faults had all fallen to Loki. Sullen, moody, leaden Loki bound to the soil and grass while Thor soared into the clouds.  
  
He rolled his eyes, hating himself for the venomous serpent that had stirred his guts with envy since the elder prince had held aloft his dwarfstar hammer. But he reached for the cloth package and opened it.

They literally stole his breath. He gasped to see the finely made sandals, dizzying knotwork weaving through runes on the golden straps and the metalwork seamlessly giving way to feathers–actual organic feathers, falcon he believed–in the way only the best artisans of Nidavellir could craft.  
  
He could taste the magic coming off them. Like a cool breeze scented with honeysuckle.  
  
“Well, try them, Loki,” Thor laughed.  
  
They went to Loki’s balcony together and Loki pulled off his boots and donned the sandals while Thor swung the hammer in loose circles, winding up until he shot up into the sky.  
  
Loki laughed into the sun as he stepped on the balcony, walking and then running in the air. He raced after his brother, their shouts and whoops of joy carried between them on the wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere in my mythology reading I came across the idea that Loki owned a pair of winged shoes, much in the way of Hermes. He can’t fly in them, per se, but can run on air and fire. They were not a gift from Thor in myth. (This also brings to mind the Seven League Boots on Agent of Asgard Loki- eeee!) I can’t find the original place I saw it but did dig up [another source on Google Books.](https://books.google.com/books?id=F9E3AQAAMAAJ&pg=PA327&lpg=PA327&dq=loki+winged+sandals&source=bl&ots=UyiWHKwtr9&sig=oDsVfRqPJ7YwwREGHqNrB83dOlg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwizocv1lvrTAhVJyFQKHU1wCqoQ6AEIVjAN#v=onepage&q=loki%20winged%20sandals&f=false)
> 
> Much love, Luna!


	8. The Trick of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Infinity War' spoilers in this one.

Loki wept frequently but fought it so that his face would twist up, brows scrunched, that deep furrow creased between them.

Thor sees it so clearly in his memory, the hue of green eyes sharpened against angry red blood vessels and the way his brother’s face looked pleading no matter the emotion that had brought on the tears.

Thor walks in the rain he calls each night while his people sleep and lets the tears slip easily down his cheek. His eyes are open and slack. It feels right that only one eye weeps. The other is beyond grief; filled with a facsimile of normalcy but empty in truth. 

He’s long since given up the senseless battle to hold the dam. His tears mix with his rain and if anything ever could they would cleanse him of grief.

They feel like those kinds of tears in this sweet, warm rain.  
  
But his pain is unrelenting.

And though his losses are innumerable his throat is thickened and his lips are empty of one sweet word. He feels the phantom of it on his tongue, teeth, and palate—the soft click of breath on tongue as his mouth would shape the name from within his lungs to move to his brother’s ear:  _Loki._

When he tries to say the name now there’s a crack in his voice and it feels like a tiny fracture of ice on a frozen lake that spreads so fast it kills.

So he whispers it now,  _Loki_ , and loses the sound to the soft winds. 

He walks in the rain and keeps his face calm and lets the tears fall free.  _That’s the trick of it. I don’t fight them. This way,_  he tells his fallen beloved,  _Your eyes would not be so red, so swollen afterward. This way our people won’t know I was weeping. I just let them fall and hide them in the rain._


	9. Solace

The first words Thor speaks to him are “Where is the Tesseract?”

A growled demand. The brash, entitled tone Thor took when addressing Laufey on Jotunheim. 

Loki bristles and gathers his own words to go to war. 

He huffs out an dismissive laugh. “Oh, I missed you, too.”

“Do I look to be in a gaming mood?” Thor’s eyes are a storm and his hammer is raised in a fist that looks like it wants to punch. 

How can Thor would even think to say ‘game’? Fury licks up through Loki like an igniting flame and he  _is_ punching. Before his mind even reacts his fist cracks against Thor’s jaw and the shockwave travels back down his arm.

He curses himself for reacting before he can craft a strategy. 

Thor grabs him by the neck in a choking grip. 

“Where is the Tesseract, Loki? What have you done?” He shouts in Loki’s face, so close his breath is tangible in hot gusts.

“What have I done! And there you are, Thor!” Loki hisses. “There is the truth of you. Not, ‘Where were you, Brother? How did you survive?’ but ‘What have you done?’ I am only ever of use to the court of Asgard when I serve your purpose. Well I have found new purpose, Odin’s son.”

Thor looks chastened, eyes wet. 

“I thought you dead.” Thor’s grasp on his neck gentles, old gesture Loki knows like his own reflection. He pushes the affection away.

“You thought,” Loki echoes, flatly. He turns head away, the hand on his neck burning him with its mockery of concern.   
  
“Loki, what has happened to you? Where have you been?” He drops Mjolnir, and the short musical hum grates Loki’s ears.

“It matters not. I have been given purpose. I have seen true power, and I—”

“Who showed you this power? Who controls the would-be king?” Thor grabs him by the shoulders now.

“Controls? No one c-controls me,” Loki says, and twists out of Thor’s grip. He’s starting to shake, so he stalks the craggy ground in a circle. “I was and should be king!”

“Not here, Loki. Not like this.” Thor’s voice is soft, conciliatory. 

Loki can’t stand it, this gentleness. He’s coming apart. Flashes of the empty rock world come to him. Thin dusty air never refreshing his lungs, sunlight never brightening his eyes, his stomach a churning hollow. Poison his only water and razor whips lashing his back. 

He doesn’t realize he’s weeping until the tears grow cooler than his skin.

“Loki, tell me what happened,” Thor pleads from far away.   
  
“No!” Loki says. He turns on the spot and isn’t even seeing Thor as he seeks out the seam in his armor and sinks the knife in. 

Thor grunts heavily but doesn’t counter attack. He presses a hand against the wound and reaches out for Loki again. “Brother, please, tell me.”

“Now?” Loki sobs, inching away. “Now you offer solace? In the midst of battle? Where were you then Thor?” 

He screams, his hands twisted into claws.  “Where were you then!”

Thor catches up to him, and pulls Loki against him, and the fight falls out of him. He slumps against his brother, crying in gulping, heavy sobs. “I needed you. I needed you Thor, and you weren’t there.”

Their shared tears rock them together and eventually they sink to the rocky ground, bloodied hands grasping each other’s necks.

“I didn’t know,” Thor whispers. “When you’re ready, tell me everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt, “I needed you. And you weren’t there.” Dedicated to my unending rage about Loki's ordeal with Thanos was never being addressed. We have a character who was deeply scarred by the Purple Fuckhead and the damage was never addressed EVERRRR ASFHKGJGH. 
> 
> I am not a Loki apologist and he is not a uwu marshmallow but UGH okay so I thought writing this would vent my feels but clearly not I'm going to go scream into a pillow for a few more years [see y'all on Tumblr](http://darklittlestories.tumblr.com) byeee xxxxx


End file.
